


Skies We Conquer Together

by carryaworld



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, T is for swearing, Wingfic, this is nothing but pure indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-26 15:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17748701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carryaworld/pseuds/carryaworld
Summary: Exactly what it looks like: an Iwaoi wing!fic





	Skies We Conquer Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poetatertot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetatertot/gifts).



> This is a birthday gift for the wonderful Spud, who is the best and most supportive of human beings. (And allows me to yell nonstop about our hoard of fictional children). Happy birthday my dude <3333

“Trashykawa, what the hell did I tell you about your landings,” Iwaizumi hisses, rocking back on his heels so that he can fix Oikawa with a glare.

 

“Not to rush them and come down so hard,” Oikawa mutters, eyes cast to the side.

 

For once, he doesn’t have the heart to banter with Iwaizumi. His knee smarts like a bitch and the sensation of pavement under his ass isn’t a nice one.

 

He’s stubborn and unflinching though, when Iwaizumi prods gently at the offending joint. It’s supported carefully by Iwaizumi’s other hand, the swelling obvious to both of them.

 

He does, however, complain. “Ow, Iwa-chan, you don’t need to press so hard,” he whines.

 

Iwaizumi grumbles under his breath and ignores him. It irritates Oikawa, that his best friend was right. His landings have been discombobulated, owing to the limited amount of space they have.

 

Neither of them have achieved proper flight, just a couple wingbeats off the ground before they plummet again. It’s hard on the knees, and Oikawa has definitely overdone it.

 

Frustrated, he distracts himself by studying Iwaizumi’s wings. Unlike his own, which are a solid brown just a shade off from his hair, Iwaizumi’s are mottled with different shades of brown and much broader. Oikawa is a touch jealous, even if it’s just physics.

 

Iwaizumi has more muscle, packed onto a shorter and denser frame, and his wings fit his physique. Oikawa stretches a hand out to brush along the edge of one, but Iwaizumi deftly swings it out of his reach.

 

He’s rather sensitive about having his wings touched. Oikawa would never try to touch in earnest, but it’s fun to annoy him.

 

“You’re just going to have to ice it,” Iwaizumi says at last, snapping Oikawa back to attention.

 

Oikawa pulls a face. That figures, since they avoid doctors at all costs. All doctors are too curious and would pick apart their wings in the name of science.

 

“You did this to yourself,” Iwaizumi reminds him, but the hands that haul Oikawa to his feet are firm and comforting.

 

Oikawa’s wings snap out for balance as he wobbles toward his bad side, nearly giving Iwaizumi a face full of feathers.

 

“Idiot,” Iwaizumi snorts, steadying him until Oikawa is stable enough to tuck his wings back in.

 

“Why are you so mean to me?”

 

“Because you’re responsible for 90% of my headaches!”

 

Oikawa pouts as they start towards home, moving slow even though all Oikawa wants is to flop down on his bed.

 

“You can’t blame at least one of those headaches on Kyoutani-kun?”

 

“Kyoutani respects me, unlike _some_ people I know.”

 

 “Hmmph. He doesn’t respect me.”

 

“That’s cause you’re an idiot and call him Mad Dog-chan.”

  
  
“HEY! It’s a good nickname!”

 

*

 

_At six years old, Oikawa loves his wings. They’re small still, just tiny brown things that certainly can’t get him airborne just yet. He hopes, though, because he wants to go see the aliens._

_The kids at school think his wings are strange. The girls are in awe, fawning over how pretty they are, but the boys scowl and call him chicken-man._

_Oikawa is the only kid with wings at his school until he’s eight, when another boy moves in down the street. He has wings too. Oikawa practically tackles him in his excitement, because here is someone who will understand._

_The new boy, Iwaizumi Hajime, is so bewildered that he doesn’t react until Oikawa tries to touch his wings._

_  
“No!” he snaps, shoving Oikawa back so hard that Oikawa stumbles and nearly falls, his wings snapping out to catch him at the last moment._

_“I was just curious if they were like mine,” Oikawa pouts._

_Iwaizumi scowls at him, protectively folding his wings closer to his back. “I don’t like when people touch my wings.”_

_Later, Oikawa will learn, it’s because people often seek to touch them with the intention to harm. The thought of someone doing something so awful makes his stomach churn._

_It takes the two of them a while to figure things out._

_At first, they stick together out of solidarity. They can only trust each other not to inflict harm because of the wings, and there’s a begrudging understanding of what the other is going through._

_Their friendship remains tentative until one day, one of the playground bullies grabs ahold of Oikawa’s wing. Oikawa screams, and Iwaizumi is across the yard in seconds, decking the bully without a moment’s hesitation. His face is furious, and he bears a striking resemblance to an avenging angel._

_They’re closer after that. Oikawa watches Iwaizumi’s back in return; his strengths lie more in sweet talking them out of trouble and earning the favor of the teachers._

_In the woods behind their development, they play in the dirt and use high points and trees to try and get enough height to glide. Oikawa is better at it, but much more reckless, resulting in skinned knees and a sprained wrist that Iwaizumi frets over._

_“Let me carry your backpack, you’re going to hurt it more,” Iwaizumi insists, tugging it out of Oikawa’s grasp._

_He carries the bag for a whole week, scolding Oikawa every time he jostles his wrist, despite it being safely encased in a black brace._

_That’s how Oikawa figures out that Iwaizumi is all scowls wrapped around a soft, squishy core. For all he likes to poke and prod at Iwaizumi, this is one thing he doesn’t tease him about. He’s not sure what exactly holds him back._

_Maybe it’s because he already knows that Iwaizumi will huff and puff and deny it. The more likely answer, however, is that he’s afraid that if he calls Iwaizumi out, the gruff kindness will stop. Oikawa doesn’t know what he’d do without it._

_  
In middle school, they find Kageyama, and Kunimi, and Kindaichi. The others are younger, and they’re young too, but they stick together, practicing with their wings in their free time after school._

_Oikawa dislikes Kageyama, which Iwaizumi for the life of him can’t understand. Perhaps it’s jealousy? Kageyama’s blue-black wings are beautiful, and he’s constantly praised by people for how naturally he uses them. He’s two years younger but has still managed to get closer to true flight than Oikawa, and it makes Oikawa furious. Kageyama is a genius, and Oikawa can’t stomach it._

_It’s a small mercy when they move on to high school and leave Kageyama behind. Iwaizumi prefers the relationships they form with the two other winged people they meet there. Their new friends provide a sense of balance, a level ground to stand on._

*

 

“What happened to you?” Hanamaki arches an eyebrow as Oikawa gingerly lowers himself onto a chair.

 

They’ve gathered for lunch in their usual spot, Matsukawa and Hanamaki bickering companionably while Iwaizumi tries to pretend that it annoys him.

 

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Oikawa says primly.

 

Matsukawa snorts, propping his face in his hand as he surveys Oikawa with those deceptively half-lidded eyes.

 

“Translation: you did something dumb and don’t want us to know about it.”

 

Iwaizumi chokes on his lunch trying to smother a laugh, and Oikawa scowls. “Shut up, Mattsun.”

 

“Oh ho, someone is grouchy,” Hanamaki grins, leaning companionably into Iwaizumi. “Iwaizumi, care to give us the details?”

 

Oikawa hunches his shoulders into a sullen pout as Iwaizumi makes a noncommittal noise of deferral. Not a complete betrayal then. In addition to his knee aching, the muscles on the same side shoulder and mid-section of Oikawa’s back twinge as well.

 

It’s soured his mood, and he stalks off to his first class after lunch with Iwaizumi’s eyes burning into the back of his head.

 

Iwaizumi corners him when the rest of their ragtag group gathers to practice.

 

“Sit,” he says sternly, brows pinched together the way they do when he’s concerned.

 

“Iwa-chan, you should go teach the other Neanderthals,” Oikawa grouches, begrudgingly taking a seat. “And leave me alone.”

 

“You’ve been compensating for your knee with your wing, haven’t you?” Iwaizumi ignores his attitude.

 

“Have not.”

 

“Have too.”

 

Iwaizumi jams a knuckle into one of the sore spots just above Oikawa’s wing and Oikawa yelps, nearly tipping over where he sits.

 

The whole group looks over in interest. Kindaichi is wearing an expression of concern, while Hanamaki and Matsukawa just look smug.

 

“Uh huh, sure Idiotkawa,” Iwaizumi mumbles, then directs his attention to the rest of them. “Get back to your drills, I’ll be over in a minute.”

 

“So bossy,” Oikawa mutters, though he shuts his mouth when Iwaizumi sets to working out the strain in his shoulder with the pads of his thumbs.

 

He’s on the gentler side of firm as he releases the tension in the offending muscles with patient persistence. Oikawa can’t help but lean back into the touch, letting his wings fan out on either side of him.

 

Iwaizumi works in silence for a while and then he pauses, a hand hovering just above one of Oikawa’s wings. Oikawa can see it out of the corner of his eyes and knows that it’s a question, a request for permission. Iwaizumi doesn’t touch other people’s wings without asking first, even though Oikawa has given him blanket permission.

 

Oikawa sighs. “You know it’s fine.”

 

Iwaizumi gives a soft grunt of acknowledgement, sliding an index finger along the lesser secondary covert feathers before carefully stretching the wing out. At full extension they’re huge, large enough that he can’t open them fully indoors.

 

The different kinds of feathers and their functions are something he researched avidly in middle school. It was how he realized that part of the reason they hadn’t achieved flight was because they hadn’t grown in the correct feathers yet.

 

Normally birds grow in mature flight feathers within a rather quickly, since it’s essential to survival. Iwaizumi pointed out that maybe their wings followed more along with the human developmental pattern. That is, to say, much slower.

 

The flight feathers grew in by the start of high school, but now they are faced with the problem of how to properly use their wings. Without an adult to show them how, they’re rather lost. Flying is not instinctual for the human brain.

 

“Kunimi, no slacking,” Iwaizumi barks, eyes narrowed across the way despite having his focus on working Oikawa’s wings through some stretches.

 

“Iwa-chan is a drill sergeant,” Oikawa murmurs, noodle-like from the admittedly good shoulder massage.

 

“Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi retorts, stepping away. “Stay out of trouble while I do _your_ job.”

 

“Yeah yeah. _Bossy_.”

 

*

 

Oikawa is the first to achieve true flight. He’s been getting closer and closer over the last few weeks, and Iwaizumi knew that it was just a matter of time.

 

It happens after everyone else has left for the day, and it’s just Iwaizumi keeping an eye on Oikawa as he practices.

 

He can feel that there’s something different today, can see the slight changes Oikawa has made to his form. Somehow between one breath and another, Oikawa gets airborne, and stays there instead of dropping after a few beats. Iwaizumi can hardly believe what he’s seeing.

 

Oikawa, despite his faults, is beautiful. He always complains that his wings are plain compared to Iwaizumi’s or Kindaichi’s, but Iwaizumi thinks that the soft brown suits him well. And boy, are those wings glorious in action.

 

They’re built differently from Iwaizumi’s own broader wings, sleek and streamlined. In the air, they’re grace personified.

 

Iwaizumi gapes, unable to form a coherent thought as he just stares and stares, Oikawa oblivious as he revels in his first flight.

 

When he lands, he barrels into Iwaizumi, face alight and gleeful laughter spilling out of him. It sounds like music even though Iwaizumi’s ribs ache from the impact. His wings have snapped out automatically to provide resistance, making quite the display of the both of them.

 

“You did it,” he says breathlessly, eyes searching Oikawa’s face.

 

His friend as never looked so blissfully happy before. There’s not a trace of deceit or clever deflection in his expression, just pure and unadulterated joy.

 

“Iwa-chan it was amazing,” he sighs, dropping his forehead onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder as he gets his breath back. “You have to catch up and come with me.”

 

“Of course I will, you idiot. I can’t let you go flying by yourself,” Iwaizumi scoffs around the sudden lump in his throat.

 

He lifts a hand to rest at the back of Oikawa’s neck, grounding them both. For whatever reason, this makes Oikawa grin like an idiot.

 

“How could I go anywhere without Iwa-chan,” he murmurs, and it replays in Iwaizumi’s brain for the rest of the day on a loop.

 

*

 

Oikawa tries to teach him, now that he’s got it nailed down, but Iwaizumi still can’t quite get it. He’s frustrated, but Oikawa is even more frustrated as they stand together on the grass, wings stretched out.

 

“You don’t have the angle right, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi scowls.

 

“Now?”

 

“No.”  
  


“Seriously?” Feathers ruffle and then, “Is this better?”  
  


“No!”

 

Oikawa makes a strangled noise and stomps around so that he can stand in front of Iwaizumi, face to face.

 

“Iwa-chan?”

 

“…what?” Iwaizumi asks warily.

 

Something in Oikawa’s tone is different. Oikawa, never hesitant of demanding things of him, shuffles his feet.

 

“Can I… Can I touch your wings? To set them at the right position? I’ll be gentle I promise!” he blurts.

 

Iwaizumi freezes. Oikawa has asked and complained and prodded to let Iwaizumi touch his wings, but this is the first time he’s ever asked seriously. And truthfully, Iwaizumi isn’t sure why he would refuse, beyond the fact that Oikawa’s hands on his wings might send him into cardiac arrest.

 

This is Oikawa, his best friend and the person he trusts most in the world. People have been cruel, but Oikawa would never touch his wings with malice.

 

“Yeah, okay,” he concedes, mentally bracing himself.

 

Oikawa blinks at him. “What?”

 

“I said yeah, okay, you can touch my wings,” Iwaizumi repeats. “Were you even listening?”

 

“I was!” Oikawa exclaims immediately. “I just… I didn’t expect you to say yes.”

 

Iwaizumi waits until Oikawa meets his eyes. “I trust you,” he says firmly.

 

Oikawa splutters a choked, ‘Iwa-chan!’ as his face burns.

 

Heat threatens to overcome Iwaizumi’s cheeks as well, but he holds it and his racing heart in check.

 

“The key is to let your wings come back a bit vertical on the upstroke so that you have less resistance,” Oikawa chatters to distract himself from how nervous he is. “That’s what we were doing wrong before.”

 

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows reach his hairline.

 

“I watched youtube videos, shut up,” Oikawa grumbles. “But yeah, it’s less pumping your wings up and down and more of a—” he cuts off as he mimes the motions.

 

“Sure,” Iwaizumi commits it to memory. “Now show me how it’s supposed to feel.”

 

Oikawa hesitates another moment before reaching out and gently running a finger down one of Iwaizumi’s primary feathers. Iwaizumi holds still, hardly breathing as Oikawa takes hold of the wing with great care.

 

“Okay?” Oikawa murmurs, the earnest concern in his voice making Iwaizumi’s chest even tighter.

 

“Mmm,” he says rather than trying to formulate a response.

 

His tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth, caught in the overwhelming rush of feelings he has about Oikawa touching him like this. There are too many to discern, but the gist of it is clear. Iwaizumi is far too gone for one Oikawa Tooru.

 

His answer is good enough for Oikawa, who focuses on maneuvering the wing the way it’s supposed to move in flight.

 

“See what I mean?”

 

Iwaizumi nods, pulling his wing out of Oikawa’s grasp as he steps back, giving a few experimental wingbeats.

 

“That’s better,” Oikawa approves, easing back a few steps himself. Getting clipped by a wing is not a painless experience. “Go for it?”

 

A ferocious grin stretches Iwaizumi’s mouth. “I will.”

 

It takes him a few tries, but when he finally gets it right and takes to the air, he _soars_. He can hear Oikawa’s excited yelling, and it’s not long before he isn’t alone.

 

“You did it!” Oikawa hollers over the wind, keeping well out of the way of Iwaizumi’s wingspan.

 

Iwaizumi is zoned into what he’s doing, too focused on staying aloft, but he smiles anyway. Yeah, he did.

 

He can’t stay airborne as long as Oikawa, but the latter follows him down, practically tackling him when their feet hit the ground.

 

“Shittykawa,” he wheezes, as Oikawa’s got him in a death hug.

 

“We can fly together now,” Oikawa breathes in his ear.

 

Iwaizumi was already giddy, but that does stupid things to his heart. As does Oikawa’s lips that close to his ear. Never has the urge to kiss him been so strong.

 

“Tooru,” he chokes out, because with the adrenaline pumping through his veins and setting him alight, there’s no time like the present.

 

Oikawa pulls back so that he can see Iwaizumi’s face, a question written in those chocolate eyes. It steals the words off Iwaizumi’s lips and spirits them away, leaving him floundering.

 

He takes the only remaining option and leans in, pressing his slightly wind-chapped lips into Oikawa’s soft ones. Oikawa makes a quiet noise in response and Iwaizumi starts to reel backwards, but is caught and held in place by slender fingers on his jaw as Oikawa kisses him in return.

 

“Hajime,” Oikawa hums as he pulls back, sliding his hand up so that it fully cups Iwaizumi’s cheek.

 

Iwaizumi lets out a shaky breath. “So, uh..”

 

Oikawa smiles, his lips stretching to their fullest. “It took you long enough.”

 

It takes a moment for Iwaizumi to register that, and then he’s turning his head to nip at Oikawa’s fingers.

 

“Screw you,” he retorts without heat.

 

Oikawa yanks his hand out of reach, dropping it to rest on Iwaizumi’s hip instead. The touch is shy, something Iwaizumi doesn’t usually associate with Oikawa.

 

“I really like you,” Oikawa whispers, so soft that Iwaizumi has to incline his head to hear properly.

 

He huffs in response, stepping closer so that their foreheads are resting together.

 

“I really like you too, idiot,” he answers.

 

Oikawa gives his hip an admonishing squeeze, but Iwaizumi doesn’t care enough to scold him because suddenly they’re kissing again. Iwaizumi’s wings are tucked out of the way against his back, but Oikawa’s curve around them like a shield.

 

Encapsulated in their comfort, Iwaizumi thinks he could stay like this forever. Or, at least, for as long as the world will let him.

 

*

 

“Iwa-chan wake uppppppppp.”

 

Iwaizumi scrunches his eyes in protest against waking up, his mind moving sluggishly.

 

“Ngggghhh,” he groans, shoving his face back into the pillow.

 

“Hajime~” Oikawa sing-songs, running gentle fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair.

 

He still doesn’t budge, so Oikawa continues his explorations, down Iwaizumi’s back and then finally out over his wings.

 

Months have passed, and Iwaizumi has slowly grown comfortable with Oikawa touching his wings. It becomes a casual gesture between them to preen each other’s feathers, and Iwaizumi has become quite fond of the sensation. The best way he can describe it is that it’s rather similar to having someone play with your hair.

 

Oikawa persists until Iwaizumi finally drags himself upwards. They’ve made a blanket nest of two futons on the floor in Oikawa’s room, as that’s the only way to accommodate two grown boys with two large sets of wings.

 

“Sleepy-head, you’re going to make us late,” Oikawa chides.

 

Iwaizumi scowls sleepily at him until it’s chased away by a quick peck on the lips.

 

“You’d better be making this worthwhile if I’m getting up so early,” Iwaizumi grumbles.

 

Oikawa sneaks another kiss before slipping away, throwing Iwaizumi a grin over his shoulder. “I am.”

 

He’s been planning this trip for weeks, the two of them going somewhere they can stretch their wings and just _be_ together.

 

There’s nothing he loves more in the world than flying with Iwaizumi. Oikawa hopes that they’ll be doing it the rest of their lives.

 

**Author's Note:**

> catch me on tungle.hell @carry-a-world :D


End file.
